


rainstorm

by frogmoji (MagnaGenocideBaby)



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Blood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mid-Canon, Partners to Lovers, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 20:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnaGenocideBaby/pseuds/frogmoji
Summary: They're supposed to be looking after him and making sure he doesn't get into any trouble -- but on a rainy day, the doctor disappears into the fog, and Spirit has to go searching for him.





	rainstorm

**Author's Note:**

> soo this is my first fic since like? middle school? and i wrote about them gays. this idea has been rolling around in my head for a while, and i think i did pretty well! 
> 
> quick note -- i headcanon spirit being able to 'feel' souls, a little like soul, but instead of hearing them like instruments, he feels them like bodies of water. so that's what all the water imagery is about, lol.

He doesn’t know how he keeps getting the errands dumped on his plate.

That’s not quite true; he knows exactly why he’s always the one running off to get groceries or pick up dinner or do this and that. It’s because, despite having grown in up in Death City, Marie still manages to get lost on a daily basis.

And because, left to his own devices, Stein will just waste away trying to sustain himself on instant noodles and sheer will.

And so, Spirit was the one stuck with the job of running to the grocery store on an absolutely miserable Sunday morning, while Marie checks on the meister they’d been babysitting since… well. Since the other Deathscythes had arrived back in the city, what seemed like an eternity ago.

Spirit delicately balances the bags of groceries in his arms, one cheek squished against the cold metal pole of his umbrella, trying to keep it upright, wedged as it is between a loaf of bread and some lettuce. His shoes stick and sink into the muddy gravel leading up to the door of the Patchwork Laboratory -- an ostentatiously named building, inhabited by a man that likes to pretend he’s only interested in the practicalities of life, and yet goes to great pains to add his signature stitch motif to every single thing he owns.

Carefully, he climbs the cement steps of the porch, as to not jostle the Jenga puzzle of food he carries, and he takes a moment to scrape the stones and dirt from the bottom of his shoes. Now, his only obstacle is the door.

The door with which he has no hands to open.

Death, Stein needs to invest in a goddamn doorbell.

He scooches forwards, until the bags in his arms are pressed against the door, and he slowly moves on hand from under them. When he’s sure they aren’t about to fall, he turns his wrist, and starts desperately reaching for the doorknob.

He’s so close.

His fingers graze the metal.

Scoot to the left a little bit more.

Almost there--

Yes!

A grin stretches across his face as he finally grasps the doorknob, and he turns in, pushing the door open with his foot as his hand moves to hold the groceries once more.

“It’s a freaking downpour out there! Seriously, why am I always the one having to go out? And why’d you have to call me so early? I know Stein gets cranky without his coffee, but sheesh!”

He steps inside the lab, his still open umbrella just managing to squeeze through the large doorway. It is, unsurprisingly still dark inside. Stein always liked his living spaces gloomy. He walks forwards, and sets down the bags on the front console with a slight ‘huff!’

“Doesn’t Stein like the grey weather? Can’t you make him go with you? I guess the rain’s not good for the screw in his head, but…”

Spirit trails off as he closes his umbrella, realizing that he’s been talking unimpeded for more than a minute without either a sarcastic quip or a gentle chastising for taking so long.

“Helloooo? Where are you guys? If this is a joke, you know I scare easy!”

It’s quiet, and Spirit starts feeling a little like he wants to throw up. Silence always gets to him like this -- worms its way into his brain and into his heart, makes him feel like he’s done something wrong, something terrible, and it eats him from the inside out.

The quiet is broken, though, by the quick sound of high heels clicking against the linoleum floor of the lab, and a blonde woman, short even with the help of her shoes, rounds the corner from one of the hallways, a worried look in her one golden eye.

“Spirit, I can’t find Stein.”

Spirit’s brows furrow, and the anxiety that had been slowly churning his gut suddenly spikes. He reaches out and takes Marie’s shoulder as she comes closer to him.

“What do you mean you can’t find him? He’s Stein, he doesn’t go places.”

“I mean, he isn’t here,” Marie says. “I woke up this morning, and I went to make us coffee, but when I noticed we were out, I called you.”

“Yeah, and you sent me on a shopping trip.”

“Well, I went to tell Sten that you’d be coming over sooner than expected, but he wasn’t at his computer. And I thought, finally, he’s trying to get a regular sleep schedule, but when I went to his bedroom, he wasn’t there, either. I’ve checked the whole lab, he isn’t here.”

She begins to chew her lip nervously, and Spirit starts to do the same. If there’s one thing they aren’t supposed to do, it’s lose track of Stein. As much as he hates to admit it, the man’s dangerous, especially now. He tries to swallow the panic and the bile working its way up his throat.

“Are you sure he didn’t, I don’t know, go out somewhere? I know I said he doesn’t, but he does sometimes. And he especially doesn’t tell people things.”

Marie shakes her head, and she takes the hand off her shoulder and starts to pull him to the bathroom that off shoots from the living room. 

“No, something’s definitely wrong. Look.”

She opens the door, and Spirit sucks in a quick breath at the sight of red.

The mirror above the sink is cracked and broken, the glass and surrounding walls splattered with blood. It isn’t a lot -- a small comfort, at least, that Stein wasn’t hurt too badly, but he knows he hurt himself, and now he isn’t there at all.

“Fuck. Shit. Yeah. Shit. This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

He steps back, before the sight of blood spots on the bathroom tile can sear itself into his brain. Marie’s lips purse together as she closes the door, and still, she worries her lip between her teeth. 

“I don’t know how long he’s been gone, but the blood is dry.”

Spirit nods, and he turns away for a moment, pressing the balls of his hands into his eyes until he sees starbursts He can feel it building,the tingling in his limbs that make him feel like he’s going to collapse out of his body, the cold sweat that builds at his brow.

They don’t know where Stein is. They know he’s hurt. They know he’s unstable. They know he’s hurt himself before, and he can do it again. They know he’s hurt other before, and he can do it again.

A thousand terrible consequences run through his head, a thousand versions of how this day will end in tragedy.

No, he can’t.

He can’t fall apart now, not until he’s tried to find him himself. 

He has to find Stein.  
He takes another breath, before dropping his hands from his eyes and turning to face Marie, still behind him. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go look for him. You stay here in case he comes back. Call a couple of the others to help look.”

Spirit starts back towards where he’d left his umbrella, and Marie trails behind, frowning.

“I don’t want to just be left behind and doing nothing to help. It was my responsibility to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t go anywhere or hurt himself. I should be helping you look for him.”

Spirit picks up his umbrella as he looks back at his fellow Deathscythe.

“Listen, Marie, I know you want to help, but your sense of direction is absolute crap, and I’m sorry to say it, but you’ll just make things worse.”

There’s a flash of hurt on her face, but he doesn’t have time to feel bad about it. He opens the door, and steps outside once more, his umbrella protecting him against the torrential rain. He spares a glance back at Marie, and tries not to look as afraid as he feels.

“I’ll...be back soon. Hopefully.”

Marie fixes him with a hard look, and she nods. 

And Spirit ventures out into the rain.

-

One of these days, he’s gotta convince Stein to move into the city. He knows he hates the noise and the people, but it can’t be good for him to live near all these graveyards.

And there’s so much mud.

Gods, his shoes are probably ruined.

And he’s cold. It’s too windy.

And his socks are wet.

He has to keep finding things to complain about, or his anxiety will overcome him.

He can feel it buzzing at the back of his skull as he thinks about the raindrops blowing into his face. It needles into his spine, a strange pain that he can’t place and can’t shake.

The umbrella nearly slips from his sweaty palm, but his grip on it tightens.

He doesn’t know quite how long he’s been out looking for Stein. Long enough for water to seep into his shoes and the bottom of his pant legs to become soaked and cold and heavy. He takes a step, and grunts as his foot sinks deep into the mud. A swear passes his lips, and he leans against a worn gravestone as he tries to get himself out of the muck. 

“This is the absolute worst place to be while it’s raining,” he mumbled. “Swear to Death, if I see a bone, I’m gonna lose it.”

Finally, there’s a wet squelch, and he manages to get his shoe free. He sighs, then nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears his text tone. He wipes his wet hand off on the still dry part of his pants before pulling his phone from his pocket. 

**The Magic Hammer**  
_i called azusa and justin. they’re looking around the city._

He shifts the phone in his grip and types out a reply. 

**Ch-Ch-Cherry Bomb !!**  
_got it. i’m at the graveyard_

He drops the phone back in his pocket, and pushes off the grave to begin his search once more.

He’s more careful now as he walks through the graveyard, stepping closer to the trees, where the ground is more stable, thanks to the roots. He looks through the haze of the falling rain, but he doesn’t see Stein -- a man usually very easy to spot, considering his size.

He tries to not let it get to him, but as time goes on, his guilt grows. It curls in the pit of his stomach like a stone, and each step feels so much heavier. Maybe he should’ve moved into the lab, like Marie had. At least then, he might have been able to keep a better eye on him. Marie’s healing wavelength did wonders, but a little extra help couldn’t hurt. He knew how prone Stein was to madness, new how badly it affected him. He should have helped more...

If he could have even stood sleeping in that building.

He pretends like things are fine now. He insists that he’s moved past it all. Sometimes he even convinces himself. But still, he’s afraid of the idea of sleeping anywhere near the doctor. Still, he flinches, just slightly, when Stein reaches for him. Still, he finds himself having nightmares.

He can’t forget what happened. What Stein did.  
Even if he tries.

He wishes he would apologize.

But he can’t think of that right now.

Right now, no matter how many hang ups he still has, no matter how scared he is of what condition he’ll find him in, he has to find his meister.

He has to find Stein.

He keeps walking, even as he reaches the edge of the graveyard. He stops for a moment to brush the hair from his eyes, and he breathes a sigh. Maybe he should turn back, see what other path Stein might have taken. At this point, he could be anywhere in the city. The thought terrifies him, and shakes his head. It’s just fields of grass moving forward. He doesn’t see --

_Fresh water on his tongue._

It’s him.

_Sand between his teeth._

He knows it so intimately.

_The earthy smell of moss, almost overwhelming._

Stein’s soul.

He whips back around, looking among the tall grasses. He doesn’t see him, but maybe he isn’t standing. He starts wading through the plants, barely noticing as he slips in the mud and nearly falls.

He’s so close. He can feel the waves of his soul lapping against his own, dark water that’s been clouded with what he knows is madness. He can barely see past the surface, and he’s so afraid --

He breaks through the tall grass, and stumbles his way into a clearing. His eyes quickly scan his surroundings.

There!

In the center, he sees him. On his knees, his usually stark white lab coat now grey from the rain. His back faces him, but he can see that he’s...he wouldn't say relaxed. No, it’s something more like resigned. 

Spirit pants softly from the adrenaline, and he takes a step forward, then stops. Though he doesn’t seem on edge, he doesn’t want to catch him too much by surprise. No, that would be too dangerous. Even if he didn’t have any scalpels with him, he knew he could do damage with his bear hands.

So he takes a deep breath, and starts walking towards him in slow strides. Stein doesn’t seem to react at all. He simply stays sitting there, on his knees, staring off into the distance. He swallows, and his eyes glance down. He can see the bandages on his hand, engorged with water. He sees red, too, and he frowns. He hopes he’ll be able to redress that later.

Finally, he comes to stand just behind the doctor, and still, he doesn’t notice him. That certainly doesn’t bode well, considering how alert he usually is. But it’s better than being attacked, he supposes. From here, he can see his face better. His silver hair is plastered to his face, the screw in his head dripping water, and his green eyes, usually alight with curiosity and mischief, seem...darker, somehow.

After a moment, Spirit moves his hand forward, so that the umbrella covers the both of them. 

“You know, it’s raining.”

For a second, he’s not sure Stein even heard him, from wherever his mind seems to be, but the meister blinks once, twice, before slowly turning his head to look up at the man shielding him from the rain.

“...oh. I didn’t...notice.”

Spirit cracks a smile, until he realizes that Stein isn’t joking. He really hadn’t noticed the rain. It worries him even more.

He swallows the anxiety, though, because right now, there isn’t any time to panic. Right now, Stein needs him.

He didn’t think that could happen ever again.

“You should really be careful about that. Wouldn’t want your screw rusting, yeah?”

Stein stares at him for a moment too long, then slowly, he nods.

“Yeah.”  
Spirit frowns as he looks at him. 

“Death, you’re doing really bad.”

Stein nods again.

He’d find it funny, if he weren’t talking about his former partner’s spiral into madness.

He watches him for a moment longer, pursing his lips.

“Why’d you even come here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you...get up?”

“I don’t know.”

Spirit sighs, and he shifts on his feet.

“Alright, well, Mr. I-Don’t-Know, until you feel like you’re ready to go, I guess I’ll just have to sit out here with you and make sure you don’t get any more soaked to the bone. You’re paying for my dry cleaning later. And my cold medicine.”

Spirit keeps up his umbrella as he falls cross-legged in the short grass beside Stein, grimacing a the feeling of mud shifting under his rear. Ugh, these pants are probably ruined. And now his butt’s super cold.

Stein’s colder, though. He can tell even just sitting next to him. It almost radiates off him, and he wonders just how long he’s been out here. If he really hadn’t noticed the rain, had he been here since before it began to rain? It was already falling by the time he was woken up a few hours ago....

His worry just grows.

He sighs, and tries to shake away the feeling. Stein’s eyes slide from watching him, down to the ground, and he simply stares again.

Silence settles over them, and Spirit can’t stand it.

“It’s okay if you can’t, because I know you hate talking about yourself, and especially right now, words aren’t really your friends...but can you...tell me what happened?”

The silence stays.

Spirit sighs, and he stares down at the mud on the bottom of his shoes.

“...the mirror.”

He blinks, and looks back at Stein, whose brows are knit together in an attempt to focus the foggy parts of his mind and his memories. His lips part once more.

“I was in the bathroom, and I...in the mirror...I saw myself, but it wasn’t…”

His throat bobs slightly as he swallows, and one hand lifts, his fingers brushing against a bruise that isn’t there, and yet he still feels it -- a hand around his neck, squeezing the breath out of him. It still hurts.

“...I had to break the mirror.”

He says it with finality, and Spirit believes him.

He glances down to the messily bandaged hand.

“Why’d you leave the lab?”

Another moment of silence, as Stein’s finger traces an indecipherable pattern on his throat. The shape of a hand, if he was paying close enough attention. After a minute, though, his hand slowly falls back into his lap.

“It was...loud. I had to leave.”

“Loud?”

Stein closes his eyes.

“Very. There were things, scrabbling around in corners, and so many eyes...I had to leave.”

He breathes out, and Spirit can tell it’s shaky, even as he tries to hide it. The redhead watches him closely.

“I thought the lab made you feel...I don’t know, safe?”

“Because I’m a hermit?”

“Well, I mean. Yeah. A little.”

For the first time, Stein’s lips twitch up into something like a smile.

“It is. Usually. But sometimes, even a hermit like me gets a little...stuffy.”

“Well, you could’ve just asked me or Marie to take you out to the city,” Spirit says, snorting. Stein shakes his head a little, raining droplets of cold water on the poor weapon.

“Yes, but when have I ever made things easy for other people?”

Spirit laughs, and elbows him in the side.

“Good point.”

Silence settles over them once more, but this time, there isn’t a sick, buzzing feeling at the back of Spirit’s head. It’s something he might even call comfortable, with the sound of the rain all around them, and the feeling of his former meister next to him.

He can still feel it, though. The darkness clouding the water of the pond, like an invasive species choking the natural flora. It’s always been there, in Stein’s soul, but now it’s as if he’s been completely polluted.

His eyes, too. He can see how foggy they still are. They stare at the ground, but they stare at nothing. He worries.

And so he reaches out.

A tentative wave, a tendril of his own soul that moves forwards to try and clear the blackened waters. He’s resonated with him only a few times since they met again after so long, and only when they were in battle -- when it was necessary. It’s been so long since their souls were truly calm and in sync, without the adrenaline and danger of a fight.

There is still danger here, though. Danger of the madness in Stein’s soul. His own is stable, but there’s still the chance that Spirit’s crystalline river could be tainted. There’s also the chance that Stein could react badly to his trying to help, and he could lash out. He’s still unstable.

And yet, still, he reaches out. Yet still, he seeks to ground him. Yet still, the wavelength of his soul beats against Stein’s shores.

Blue eyes slide over to watch him, and he sees surprise register in the meister’s face. Surprise that Spirit would be willing to resonate with him. Spirit can feel it in his soul, the tentativeness of it, the cautiousness. But he feels tired, too. Tired from sitting in the rain for so long. Tired from trying to fight the madness on his own. Tired from being alone.

And so, after a long moment, Stein tenuously reaches out, and engulfs his former partner. Their wavelengths twist and intertwine, waters mixing in soft whirlpools, and the meister breathes a sigh as their souls sink together into familiar, long forgotten grooves.

Another long moment passes as they sit quietly, their souls’ resonance a soft background hum lulling them into a sense of calm. Stein’s eyes close, and he can almost forget the chill of the rain. He can almost feel the sun on his skin, and the smell of the earth…

But a strong wind blows right through them, and they shiver. Spirit huffs as he rubs his arm with one hand to try and warm himself up a little.

“Alright, I think we really gotta get out of this rain, or we’re gonna freeze.”

Stein nods in agreement, and watches as Spirit climbs to his feet, a little clumsily as he slips in the mud. The redhead looks at him.

“Think you can stand now?”

“I...don’t know.”

Spirit sighs, and he reaches out his hand.

“Alright, I’ll help you up. C’mon, Kohai.”

He flashes that wide, charming smile, that’s always managed to melt the hearts of the people he flirts with.

And strangely, Stein feels his knees are even weaker than before.

It takes Spirit cocking his brow and shaking his hand a little before he remembers that he’s supposed to take it, and he swallows, reaching up and grasping his outstretched hand. Spirit pulls him up with an ‘oof!’, and he pulls his arm around his should so he can help him stand on his shaky legs.

“When did you get so damn heavy?”

“When I managed to a foot above you…”

“It’s, like, nine inches.”

“It’s close enough.”

“I’ll drop you.”

Stein laughs, and Spirit can’t help the grin that breaks his stern expression. It’s joy, purely, he can feel it in his soul as they resonate. His waters are beginning to clear, ever so slightly.

“Let’s get you back home, Kohai.”

His hand squeezes Stein’s, the other still keeping them covered with the umbrella, and they begin to slog their way through the clearing and back towards the lab. They stay resonated, still, all the while. Cool river water that begins to purify the algae from the pond.

“...Senpai?”

“Yeah, Stein?”

“I...thank you.”

“...s’no problem, Kohai. What’re partners for?”


End file.
